


the paths of glory lead but to the grave

by prongs117



Category: The Little Mermaid (1989)
Genre: F/M, Non-Canonical Character Death, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 10:24:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14767796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prongs117/pseuds/prongs117
Summary: She doesn't really know much about him. She tries to fix that.





	the paths of glory lead but to the grave

It was a little-visited churchyard with wallflowers in the cracks of the time-eaten tombstones and ivy hanging from the ancient oak tree shading a grave a little grander than its neighbors but not on the scale one would associate with royalty. 

He did not come here often, especially nowadays. But here he was this afternoon.

He did not notice Ariel standing beside him until she took his hand and threaded her fingers through his.

“You never talk about them,” she said, a reprimanding yet sad tone in her voice.

“You never asked.”

“Did I have to?”

He glanced at her, her loosed hair lifting in the soft breeze. He resisted the urge to gather the wayward strands to better see her face. “I suppose not.”

“What happened to them?”

“Shipwreck. There was a terrible storm and the vessel caught fire somehow. Their bodies were never recovered so they’re not really buried here.”

“Oh.” It would have been the same fate to befall him had she not saved him. She didn’t know what to make of that.

“How old were you?”

“Ten. Almost eleven.”

“It must have been terrible,” she said knowing how empty her words must sound. She lost her mother too but she was still so young she could hardly remember it. When her sisters talked about it, it felt like something that happened to some other motherless girl.

“It was. Grimsby and Carlotta, they were wonderful. They practically raised me after that.”

That she already knew. Even during her first night in the castle, she could sense Carlotta’s motherly instincts toward the prince and even through Grimsby’s strict demeanor, she knew a kind and caring father lay underneath.

“Come on,” he said, tugging at the hand still holding his. “You must be cold. How did you find me anyway?”

“I followed you.” As if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He laughed. He could have sworn he slipped from the castle unnoticed on horseback and he had left her sleeping peacefully on their bed. “I’d have to be more careful next time then. What if I had gone somewhere you didn’t like? What would you have done then?” 

“I’ll have to think about that.”

They walked together to the spreading oak where she tied her dappled gray mare next to his favorite bay stallion, both rooting contentedly in the short grass.

“Will you take me with you next time you come here?”

“I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray


End file.
